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 for a moment. I wish to call your attention to these walls. I don't believe, Monsieur Cheremenieff has spoken to you about them."

I was glad to discover my new friend's name, though I forgot it again in a few minutes.

"No," I said, "I have not noticed them before, but they are very beautifully carved."

"Stucco!" exclaimed George. "Nothing but stucco. I suppose there is no country where the art of stuccoing has been brought to such perfection as in Russia. Most of the palaces and fine houses in the city are stuccoed. I can count the stone edifices in Petersburg on my fingers. Yet you Americans sneer at stucco."

We had been speaking in French, and Mr. Cheremenieff now put in a conciliatory word. "Perhaps you do not understand about it in your country."

"It is true," I answered, "that there are many things which we don't understand, and we are too ready to sneer at them."

"You acknowledge that!" cried George, laughing.

"I can willingly acknowledge our faults, we have so few of them."

"Dorris! Dorris!" cried the impatient voices of my relatives, "we are waiting for you."

This all happened yesterday. In the evening Tom and Mr. Thurber returned from a bear-hunt. They have been shooting those animals, in imagination, for several weeks. When it comes to the reality it is a very expensive amusement.

"Not as extravagant as keeping a yacht," Tom protested.